Lookin to the Sky 歌词
| 歌曲 | Lookin to the Sky |
| 歌手 | C-Block |
| 专辑 | Eternal Grace |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Franky Miller/Joerg Wagner DJ | |
| {Chorus:Goldie} | |
| I'm looking to the sky, looking to the sky (I'm looking to the sky) {x4} | |
| {Red Dogg} | |
| CBK sliding with th gangsta lead. I'm jonzin for the mic so call me Rap friend | |
| I'm clean like a new coupe, sitting on chrome so either drop bomb Rap on | |
| So take your punk ass back home. 'cause shady Rap's like a raggady car | |
| It ain't up to par you can't ride too far. Now R.E.D is droppin real as can be | |
| And I'm only loving God & my block family | |
| {Mr.P} | |
| I'm coming off in the 9' series. So sucka's wanna hear me the layed back track's | |
| One time so they can fear me C.B.K. On the tone of another level I'm digging | |
| Deep in the dirt so I bring my shavel. Cause I'm setting then up as I kick my stuff | |
| Buffed up lyric's on the top of the charts. They make me bust not enough funky stuff. In the cut I want my piece, make them slide to the east. As the pain decease | |
| {Bridge:Goldie} | |
| My pain is steady running through my brain, while the evils of this world keep callin out my name. Now I'm down on my knees, as a tear drops my eye. For the homie's who ain't livin, as I look to the sky | |
| {Chorus} | |
| {Red Dogg} | |
| I'm C-Blockin chin checkin. Fake nucka wreckin cus Reds on top | |
| So picture me in that direction, rollin. Foldin G's now my pockets, swollen | |
| If the sun catch you creepin, on my back door, I'm holdin | |
| I'm handlin my bid-ness did my time now I'm in this Rap game, like a burnin flame | |
| Won't stop til I win this, you can call me lucky. Dem bitches tried to buck me | |
| Livin life on a wire, till the power struck me | |
| {Mr.P} | |
| Break it down, now as I funk shot up. Mr.P strivin hard to make you shake your rump. Bust the mode, we check down low, we give control | |
| The Hip Hop the Hop Hip's the Hit's & the soul, Yo! So check out the flavor | |
| That I gotta release, check the heat. From the beats that come of the street | |
| Now you know that we come from a distance. Now we locked & now we coped | |
| And now we twisted | |
| {Bridge}/{Chorus} | |
| {Bridge}/{Chorus} |
| zuo qu : Franky Miller Joerg Wagner DJ | |
| Chorus: Goldie | |
| I' m looking to the sky, looking to the sky I' m looking to the sky x4 | |
| Red Dogg | |
| CBK sliding with th gangsta lead. I' m jonzin for the mic so call me Rap friend | |
| I' m clean like a new coupe, sitting on chrome so either drop bomb Rap on | |
| So take your punk ass back home. ' cause shady Rap' s like a raggady car | |
| It ain' t up to par you can' t ride too far. Now R. E. D is droppin real as can be | |
| And I' m only loving God my block family | |
| Mr. P | |
| I' m coming off in the 9' series. So sucka' s wanna hear me the layed back track' s | |
| One time so they can fear me C. B. K. On the tone of another level I' m digging | |
| Deep in the dirt so I bring my shavel. Cause I' m setting then up as I kick my stuff | |
| Buffed up lyric' s on the top of the charts. They make me bust not enough funky stuff. In the cut I want my piece, make them slide to the east. As the pain decease | |
| Bridge: Goldie | |
| My pain is steady running through my brain, while the evils of this world keep callin out my name. Now I' m down on my knees, as a tear drops my eye. For the homie' s who ain' t livin, as I look to the sky | |
| Chorus | |
| Red Dogg | |
| I' m CBlockin chin checkin. Fake nucka wreckin cus Reds on top | |
| So picture me in that direction, rollin. Foldin G' s now my pockets, swollen | |
| If the sun catch you creepin, on my back door, I' m holdin | |
| I' m handlin my bidness did my time now I' m in this Rap game, like a burnin flame | |
| Won' t stop til I win this, you can call me lucky. Dem bitches tried to buck me | |
| Livin life on a wire, till the power struck me | |
| Mr. P | |
| Break it down, now as I funk shot up. Mr. P strivin hard to make you shake your rump. Bust the mode, we check down low, we give control | |
| The Hip Hop the Hop Hip' s the Hit' s the soul, Yo! So check out the flavor | |
| That I gotta release, check the heat. From the beats that come of the street | |
| Now you know that we come from a distance. Now we locked now we coped | |
| And now we twisted | |
| Bridge Chorus | |
| Bridge Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Franky Miller Joerg Wagner DJ | |
| Chorus: Goldie | |
| I' m looking to the sky, looking to the sky I' m looking to the sky x4 | |
| Red Dogg | |
| CBK sliding with th gangsta lead. I' m jonzin for the mic so call me Rap friend | |
| I' m clean like a new coupe, sitting on chrome so either drop bomb Rap on | |
| So take your punk ass back home. ' cause shady Rap' s like a raggady car | |
| It ain' t up to par you can' t ride too far. Now R. E. D is droppin real as can be | |
| And I' m only loving God my block family | |
| Mr. P | |
| I' m coming off in the 9' series. So sucka' s wanna hear me the layed back track' s | |
| One time so they can fear me C. B. K. On the tone of another level I' m digging | |
| Deep in the dirt so I bring my shavel. Cause I' m setting then up as I kick my stuff | |
| Buffed up lyric' s on the top of the charts. They make me bust not enough funky stuff. In the cut I want my piece, make them slide to the east. As the pain decease | |
| Bridge: Goldie | |
| My pain is steady running through my brain, while the evils of this world keep callin out my name. Now I' m down on my knees, as a tear drops my eye. For the homie' s who ain' t livin, as I look to the sky | |
| Chorus | |
| Red Dogg | |
| I' m CBlockin chin checkin. Fake nucka wreckin cus Reds on top | |
| So picture me in that direction, rollin. Foldin G' s now my pockets, swollen | |
| If the sun catch you creepin, on my back door, I' m holdin | |
| I' m handlin my bidness did my time now I' m in this Rap game, like a burnin flame | |
| Won' t stop til I win this, you can call me lucky. Dem bitches tried to buck me | |
| Livin life on a wire, till the power struck me | |
| Mr. P | |
| Break it down, now as I funk shot up. Mr. P strivin hard to make you shake your rump. Bust the mode, we check down low, we give control | |
| The Hip Hop the Hop Hip' s the Hit' s the soul, Yo! So check out the flavor | |
| That I gotta release, check the heat. From the beats that come of the street | |
| Now you know that we come from a distance. Now we locked now we coped | |
| And now we twisted | |
| Bridge Chorus | |
| Bridge Chorus |
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